The Black Sheep and the Hidden Beauty (23 page)

He sighed. “We men really do have our work cut out for us in the public relations department, don't we?”

“What, you're saying that all your intentions are pure and innocent?”

“Is that what being a gentleman means to you?”

“What's your take?”

He opened the paddock gate for her and swept his arm gallantly in front of him. Then, immediately after closing it behind him, he snagged her arm and spun her neatly around and directly up against him. “It means we ask before we take.”

“Take what?”

“This.” He lowered his head, but paused just before his lips touched hers. “May I?”

“Rafe—”

“Elena,” he whispered, “it's been hours. Let me taste you.”

“Just kiss me already.”

He took her mouth, but gently this time, almost reverently. His body, which was tired, cramped, and spent, should have been perfectly happy with a nice good-night kiss. So that didn't explain why it roared to life the instant she opened her mouth beneath his.

What had happened in the cab of her truck should have been awkward and uncomfortable, by any description…but all he could remember was the way she'd clutched at him, holding on to him so tightly, and the way her body had taken his, holding him there so tightly, too. He wanted more, so much more, already knowing it would be, between them, the way it had never been for him with anyone. She was one hell of a woman.

And she was his.

As the kiss slowly deepened, the battle raged between libido and common sense. It was late, they were both tired, there was another long day ahead of them with little sleep to go on, and who knew what other surprises lay in store. She hadn't told him the whole story—he'd bet on that.

“Rafe,” she whispered against the corner of his mouth. “I think you have me bewitched.”

“Bothered, and bewildered?” he finished, with a little half smile.

She smiled, looking up into his eyes. “That, too. A lot of that.”

She was so easy to talk to, to play with, to spend ridiculous amounts of time in bed with. His hold on her tightened slightly. “Thank you,” he said, never more sincere.

“For?”

“Trusting me. I know it's not easy. I hope you know it's well placed.”

“I'm counting on it.”

“I'm going to bring Mac in on this—Finn, too, if he gets back anytime soon.” He'd expected her to stiffen, but she didn't.

“What will they say? Will you tell them about…this?”

He smiled. “I won't have to.”

“And…that's not going to complicate things?”

“They'll have their fun, but they'll also be in your corner, because they're in mine.”

“You're sure of that?”

“As sure as I am that the sun is going to rise in a few hours and you need some rest.”

As if to underscore his words, she was overtaken with a yawn just then. Both of them laughed. “Come on.” He walked her inside the paddock, then opened the door to the barn.

Before they stepped inside, she turned to him and put her hand on his arm. “I don't want to complicate things for you. With Mac or Finn, or with anything else. What I said earlier stands. If you don't want to be involved, I'll understand.”

“I'm involved. And I'm not going anywhere. I know it's complicated. That's how life works. I'm not expecting simple.”

“That's the problem. You'll have expectations. I don't know that I can fulfill any of them. I don't know what you want beyond right this moment and I can't make you any promises.”

“I don't recall asking for any. One moment at a time, okay? You've enough to deal with. We'll take the rest as it comes. Not everything has to be planned out.”

“I just—” She stopped herself. “Okay.” She smiled a little. “You can tell I'm new at this.”

He tugged her close, bumped hips with her, making her eyes widen a little. “You can tell I don't mind in the least.” He slid a hand beneath the heavy braid lying on her neck and tipped her head back as he lowered his own. “Maybe tonight you'll have sweet dreams. If I can do that, it's enough.” He kissed her then, and put all the promise he felt behind it. Things he couldn't yet put words to. And when she kissed him back, so easily, so honestly, his own barriers began to crumble, ones he hadn't even been aware were there. So that by the time he'd broken the kiss, he felt compelled to say, “Okay, so that was a lie.”

She frowned. “What part?”

“That it'll ever be enough.” He backwalked her into the barn. “The more I want, the more I want. I want to know everything about you. What your favorite food is, what position you like best in bed, what you're still not telling me about the situation with Geronimo.”

“Rafe—”

“I can even claim I'll be patient, but that'll probably end up being a lie, too, though I'd certainly try. I'm a pit bull, as you said, always have been.” He kissed her again, until she was making those soft, little moans that made him crazy. Then he was sliding his hands down over her hips and tugging her thighs, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist and let him press the once-again rock-hard length of himself more deeply between her thighs. Sweet almighty, he might never have enough of her. Bewitched, indeed.

And then she was kissing him back, voraciously, digging her nails into his shoulders, hooking her ankles at the base of his spine, urging him closer, and once again, they had way too many layers on between them. Only this time, there was a bed. A mere ladder-climb away.

“Hold on,” he told her, wrapping one arm around her back, the other hand closing around the nape of her neck, keeping her mouth fused to his as he stumbled them both closer to the ladder leading to her loft.

He bumped up against it, jarring her loose. She grabbed for his shoulders, her ankles slipping down over his backside.

He leaned them into the ladder. “Invite me upstairs, Elena.”

She laughed a bit breathlessly. “You have to ask?”

“I am a gentleman,” he said, as he nipped at her earlobe.

“And if I don't?” she teased, tilting her head to allow him even greater access.

He let her feet drop to the ground as he turned them so he leaned back against the ladder with her sprawled across him. His grin felt lazy, and he knew his gaze was just a touch more than a little proprietary as he stroked the side of her face, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “I'll be taking a very long, very lonely cold shower back in the pool house.”

She made a fake moue with her lips. “The horror.”

“Certainly feels like it at the moment, but I've survived worse.”

“Heroic of you.”

“So I've thought.”

She smiled up into his eyes. “I have no business getting sidetracked by you, you know, much less letting you get sidetracked by me.”

“Sometimes it's the side paths that prove the most rewarding. You coming here to Dalton Downs, for instance.”

“But there are better times than others to involve other people on your journey.”

“Ask me upstairs, Elena.”

“Pit bulls are pussycats compared to you.”

He grinned without a hint of remorse. “If it gets me what I want, I can be relentless.”

“I'm getting that.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her snug between his legs. “You could be, but apparently you like to torture me.”

“Only on horseback.”

“Kinky.”

She swatted at him, but she wasn't making any move whatsoever to disengage his tight hold. Which only had him drawing her closer still. “I do want you, Elena.” He moved his hips. “Hard to deny that one. But I'll want more than just that.”

“Maybe if you only wanted me for my body, this would be easier.”

“I don't compartmentalize.”

She smiled. “Wear your heart on your sleeve, do you?”

“Typically, never. With you? It's fast becoming something of a struggle.”

His direct answer, coupled with his very direct gaze, seemed to catch her off guard. He wasn't flirting now. And she knew it.

“I don't know what to do with that,” she said. “Or what to do with you.”

“I have a few ideas,” he replied, a hint of the teasing smile coming back, but still keeping his gaze focused tightly on her.

“Rafe—”

He tugged her mouth close and kissed her. “I won't hurt you.”

“Famous last words.”

“Is that what's holding you back? Is that the other part of the story?”

“No.”

He wanted—badly—to push, but he'd crossed so many boundaries in the past twenty-four hours, he had to find some control at some point.

“Invite me upstairs, Elena.” He went to tug her mouth down to his again, but this time she pressed her fingers across his lips and stopped him.

“I want to. That much is obvious, but—”

He moved his mouth a little and nibbled on the end of her fingers.

“You're incorrigible.”

“Unrepentantly.”

She slipped from his hold, and reached out her hand. When he took hold of it, she pulled him away from the ladder. “I won't sleep if I ask you up. We're both almost giddy with exhaustion. I think maybe we'd best get at least a little rest.”

He wanted to argue, but clearly, as she was yawning again, she had a point.

“I don't snore,” he said, trying his best to look innocent.

She laughed. “Go home.”

He stepped out of the way and allowed her to start climbing the ladder. “Good night,
mijita.
”

“Good night, Rafe.” She paused, looked down. “Thank you. For your help with Springer. And for…well, for being there.”

“Always.”

She nodded and he stood there, long after she'd closed the loft hatch. He listened to the creak of the floorboards overhead as she readied herself for bed. Stood there until the creaking stopped and the light splintering through the loft hatch went out.

“Good night,” he murmured again, and walked out of the barn, knowing that today had marked a profound change in his life. In him.

He was falling for the last person on earth he'd ever have expected to catch his attention. She was contrary, opinionated, and stubborn to a fault. She was both trouble and in trouble. Worse yet, she planned to leave at the first opportunity.

Perfect. Just perfect.

He grinned like a madman all the way back to the pool house.

“S
he moved her horse. In the middle of the night.”

Rafe paced inside his office as Mac made himself at home behind Rafe's desk. “Don't prop your feet up on—” He sighed and moved the stack of folders out from under Mac's size twelves. “Yes, she moved her horse. About two hours from here. To her vet's place. Guy named Kenny.”

“No last name?”

“He's an old friend, a vet with his own rural practice. Big spread, from what I could tell.”

“Name of the farm?”

“Didn't get it.”

Mac grinned. “What, no signs anywhere?”

“I was too busy trying to find out what the real story was, okay?”

“And? Stop with the suspense, already—you're killing me. What is the real story? Is her horse in some kind of danger? Someone from Charlotte Oaks think he's the babydaddy or something?”

Rafe started to tell Mac what he'd learned, when it hit him. Mac had just been kidding, but Rafe froze as the last pieces finally slid into place. “Holy shit.” He looked at Mac. “That's it.”

Mac let his feet slide off the desk and leaned forward. “That's what? What's it? What did I say?”

“I can't believe I didn't figure it out.”

“Figure what out? Come on, help a brother out here.”

Rafe began fishing through the stacks of files piled on one corner. He finally found the report he was looking for and flipped it open, scanning through the pages. “Dammit. Not here.” He kept flipping, scanning. “Fuck. Nothing.” He slapped the file back down. “That's got to be it, though. The timeline fits. But how in the hell…I wonder if the investigator suspects? Dammit!”

Mac stood up. “Would you tell me what's going on, for Christ's sake? Did Elena have something to do with the death of that racehorse? What could she have possibly done? From everything Kate has said about her, no way would she hurt an animal. Was it an accident?”

“It's not what she's done, it's what her horse did. Or, more specifically, if I'm on the right track here, what Geronimo did to her horse.”

“What could he possibly have…oh.” Mac's eyes widened. “Oh, shit.”

“You're damn fucking right, oh shit.”

“But, wait a minute—before we get carried away here, no way in hell something like that happens and no one knows about it. I know his security team ducked out briefly before the fire, but still, a multi-bazillion-dollar, half-ton stud just doesn't happen to pop his cork unnoticed. When two horses go at it, it's not just a little slap and tickle in the nearest hay bale—wait.” Now he started digging through the files.

“Already looked for it. And I know more than you do about that night. More than the police-interview reports, more than the fire-investigator reports.”

Mac abruptly stopped, put the folders back down, and turned his full attention to Rafe. “Okay, fill me in.”

Rafe paused a moment before telling Mac what he knew. He'd told Elena he was going to bring Mac into this, but he knew how hard it had been to extend her trust to him. He trusted Mac with his life, but he had to make sure they were on the same page here from the get-go.

“Cat got your tongue?” Mac grinned. “Or maybe it's Elena who has your tongue? And I'm not speaking metaphorically here.”

“Very funny. It's just that she finally talked to me last night and I don't want to do anything to jeopardize that.”

Mac looked wounded. “Do you really think I—”

“Of course not. But it's not about what you or I think, it's about what she thinks. I don't want her spooked back into silence.”

“I won't say a word to her until you give me the green light. Behind-the-scenes man, that's me. But, for the record, she obviously didn't tell you everything.”

Rafe looked at his partner and best friend, torn, for the first time, between two people he cared about. “I know. But she did tell me she was out there the night Geronimo died.”

“Out there…as in
with
Geronimo?”

Rafe nodded and relayed the story. “I'm assuming—now, anyway—she must have ridden Springer out there. It was the only time it could have happened.”

“And no one saw this.” Mac's flat tone made it clear what he thought of that probability.

Rafe shrugged. “Apparently not, since it sure as hell would be, or would have been, the front-page story on every major news outlet.”

“Which means she omitted revealing her little visit when talking with the police.”

“She was very likely the last one to see the horse alive. No witnesses. No alibi.”

“Yeah, I can see where that might not be a great thing to share. Worse, even, if her horse happened to get knocked up with million-dollar sperm right before the sperm donor dies.”

“Exactly. Then there is also the little matter of a moved kerosene tank.”

“But there was only one tank in the reports, which is the one that blew.” Mac's eyes widened. “She
handled the tank
?”

“No, she saw the tank. Next to the heater, in the middle of the barn.”

Mac flipped open the police report. “I thought it blew up in an attached shed.”

“It did.”

Mac looked up. “Don't get pissed off, but I have to ask—are you sure she's not involved? Because this is looking pretty damn shady.”

“As sure as I can be.”

“And which head are you thinking with?”

Rafe gritted his teeth. “The same damn head you were thinking with when you helped save Kate's property.”

Mac surprised him by laughing.

“What is so goddamn funny?”

“I thought it might be like that.”

“Like what?” he demanded, though he knew damn well where Mac was going with this. Might as well stake his claim now anyway. Let the fun begin.

“You know exactly what. Finn and I knew you had her in your scope a long time before your concerns about her even came up.”

“I didn't.” Not in a conscious way, anyway. But he had done some thinking about that. And…Mac had a point.

“Not like you do now.”

“No,” Rafe said evenly. “Not like I do now. And, fair warning, you have any problems with any of this, you go through me. If you doubt her in the least, then focus on another case and I'll handle this one.”

Mac just grinned. “Glad to see we're being objective and open-minded about all this.” He stood up and rounded the desk, clapped Rafe on the shoulder, and stuck out his hand. “Welcome to the club, my friend.”

Rafe shook his hand. “What club?”

“The ‘your life is never going to be the same' club. Don't worry, it's a pretty sweet club to be in.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“Oh, don't thank me yet. I have a few years of major ragging on your ass to get off my chest. But at least you'll have a soft pair of arms to cry into every night when I get done.”

“Very funny.”

Mac laughed. “I know. I can't wait to tell Finn.”

“Can we get back to the matter at hand here?”

“Sure. But, fair warning, I am going to question you on this, just like you did me with Kate. I might not have appreciated it at the time, but it did help me stay objective enough to see all the angles. This looks way more twisted than the situation at Winnimocca. I think you're going to need all the objective minds you can collect. By the way, no way can I keep this from Kate.”

“I know.” At Mac's surprised expression, he said, “I already told Elena that. But maybe it might be better coming from her, or me. Before you start gloating all over the place, okay?”

“I'll give you the rest of the day, since I don't plan on seeing Kate until tonight. But we don't keep things from each other.” He caught Rafe's gaze. “A policy you and Elena might want to consider adopting here real quick.”

“I know.”

“So, does she still think the explosion was an accident?”

“She's not sure. But she made the observation that everyone who should have been in the building came running from other places when the tank blew. So that tends to lead me to believe whoever was there, shouldn't have been there.”

“Like Elena shouldn't have been there?”

“Yes. And maybe they didn't come forward for the same reason she didn't.”

“And this mystery person didn't see her there, or see the whole match-game moment with the horses? Because that would be pretty hard to believe.”

“She said it was about forty-five minutes after she left the stables when the tank blew. Whoever it was had plenty of time to come in after she left. And no one has contacted her, or ratted her out, which you think they would have done if they saw her there. Pin the blame on her.”

“True, true. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless they thought she saw them.”

“We talked about that, too.”

Mac grinned. “Did a lot of talking, did you? Is that all you did?”

“Don't.”

“I don't have to. You have that whole ‘me caveman, you mine' attitude thing Kate says I had after we finally…stopped talking.”

Rafe ignored him. “What we have to figure out now, is what the insurance investigator knows.”

“What was the deal with that phone call, anyway?”

“It shook her up, but he didn't ask her anything new. It was the timing of it. She's pretty set on the idea that it was because we did some digging, calling Charlotte Oaks about her, that got them interested in her again. She thinks it's just a stalling tactic on their part to drag out the investigation that much longer, not pay the claim.”

“And you?”

“The timing suggests she has a point, but with the secrets she's been keeping, we can't be too sure. Apparently the guy is going to come out here to talk to her in person. So that leads me to think there is more going on.”

“Is that why she moved the horse?”

“I thought so. In fact, I thought she was running. But it turns out she was just moving Springer for medical reasons.”

“You think the horse was really having problems? Or was it because she thought someone might be on to the babydaddy angle.”

“Her mare was having problems, but now…I'm thinking it was both.” Rafe swore under his breath and wished Elena had told him the rest. It definitely changed things. This wasn't just about her innocence now and making sure she didn't get railroaded if the truth came out. Now—hell, he didn't know what to think now. “I don't even know the legal ramifications of her horse carrying Geronimo's offspring.”

“We need Finn. He would know where to dig, who to ask.”

“It would be helpful. You hear anything from him?”

“Not a peep. But he said this might take a while.”

“I sure as hell wish we knew what ‘this' was all about.”

“Yeah, well, I'm sure he'll fill us in when he can.”

“Which does jack for me now. I'll see what I can dig up.”

“I'd ask Kate, but her knowledge of horses is strictly about using them with the kids. I doubt she knows anything about breeding them or the legalities of it all. She might know someone who does know, though. She has a lot of contacts.”

“Wait on that. Let me see what I can dig up. And I have to talk to Elena first. This is still all supposition on our part.”

“You think we're on the wrong track?”

Rafe sighed. “I wish we were.”

“Do you think maybe she bred them on purpose?”

“If I believe that, I almost have to believe she had something to do with the explosion and Geronimo's death.”

“I don't follow.”

“I don't know that I do, either, but it's just too damn big a coincidence otherwise.”

“But something like that couldn't happen by accident, could it? I mean, unless he got loose or something, but surely someone would have noticed a million-dollar stallion charging around.”

“It was the middle of the night.”

“How would one person catch him and get him back in his stall?”

“Well, if it was anyone else, I'd say I don't know. But if that one person was Elena—”

“Our resident horse whisperer…” Mac trailed off and fell silent while they both thought over the situation.

“What would the scenario be for her not being involved?” Rafe asked. “If her horse got knocked up by the same stud that miraculously dies in a horrible fire hours later…what scenario works where she's still innocent?”

“If it truly was an accident.”

“We've already established someone moved the tank. Someone who didn't come forward with that information after the fact. So that brings reasonable doubt.”